The Things I Left Behind
by xxwhitecrossxx
Summary: Schuldig has flashbacks of his past and meet Aya in the middle of the night. My first fic ^^; I hope you enjoy!! Please r+r!!


The characters in the story are not mine...(i wish they were) So please don't sue me!! , Enjoy!!!!  
  
*blah blah* = talking to someone telepathically  
  
'blah blah' = talking to himself  
  
**blah blah** = flashback or dream  
  
"The Things I left Behind"  
  
**It was a real rainy night, the storms rolling through the small town. Claps of thunder struck down from the hazy skies, casting an eerie prescence around the atmosphere. Children clung to their mothers' skirts, faces hidden in the shadows. Screams ripped through the air as bullets tore their way through the unsuspecting villagers. Children wept, mothers screamed, men tried to protect their family, but the assassins left no survivors.**  
  
He sat straight up, his chest heaving, sweat covering his body. His green eyes glowed like gems in the dimly lit room. Passing long, slender fingers through auburn hair he murmured to himself.  
  
"It was just a dream. It was just a dream....just.....a.........dream." Closing his jade eyes, he let out a long sigh. He slowly receded back to bed. Voices grew louder and louder, flooding his mind, he knew he couldn't go back to sleep now. Staring at the white ceiling, he listened to the voices that disturbed his mind.  
  
"...so you......to my place....."  
  
"...bored?.....me...yea...hey.."  
  
"She went out....club.....dance.." He wondered just how long he would last before he lost his sanity like the Irish man locked up in his cell right now. Sometimes he felt he was being pushed over the edge, sometimes reading others' thoughts didn't taste like honey, sometimes they confused him even more, and sometimes he would get nightmares either of another's past or of his own...he could never tell. With a final sigh of defeat, he swung his legs out of bed, grabbing his double-breasted coat, bandana, and his glasses. The cool night air wrapped itself against his burning skin. His burning skin.......  
  
**"Mmm...that smells good. What are you making?" The handsome man turned to the woman with the same emerald eyes, who was busily setting up the kitchen table. The young woman turned to face the man and smiled lovingly.  
  
"It's my old fashioned apple pie!" She exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips and smiled triumphantly.  
  
"Oh...I guess I won't be eating than.." She glared at him and he laughed jokingly.  
  
"I'm just kidding. Can't wait til everyone arrives." He winked and they embraced. A knock was soon heard and the guests filled into their cozy little home, laughing and chatting to one another. The couple smiled at the guests, motioning them to come and try some of the homemade food. Everybody watched the small boy carrying the apple pie onto the dining table where all the other pasteries were placed. They awed and cooed as he sat down exhausted, rubbing his eyes tiredly. His father scooped him up in his strong arms, smiling brightly down on his son. The feel of his father's embrace was warm and loving. He remembered how the heat embraced his bare skin as he took out his mother's apple pie from the oven. He remembered his burning skin...**  
  
He reopened his eyes, finding himself at a bar full with young adults drowning in their sorrows. 'Whatever sorrow they have becomes mine.' He ordered his usual and sat quietly in the corner of the bar. The liquid churning as he downed the first shot. The same bitter taste burning through his throat, leaving its scent in his mouth. The bartender refilled his glass and left him to his thoughts. He eyed the glass suspecting something to happen but wasn't surprised when nothing happened. He looked down at the amber colored liquid, watching it as he slid the glass between his hands. He then looked at the glass that carried the fluid. Snickering, he dropped the glass against the polished wooden floor, watching it burst into millions of tiny fragments.......like millions of tiny crystals.  
  
**"Isn't it beautiful, honey?" A woman in her late twenties asked a young boy who was propped up on his elbows, stomach against the soft grass, legs high in the air. He smiled and nodded.  
  
"Their beautiful mommy." His eyes full of innocence, full of wonder, full of contentment, full of......love. He looked up at the heavens above, the stars winking down on them. He watched them as if they were telling him the secrets of the world, captivated by the dark velvet sky and the millions of white lights shining down upon him and his mother. The stars looked like millions of diamonds....like millions of tiny crystals.**  
  
He stared at the broken glass in front of him, ignoring the stares the other people gave him, ignoring the bartender's curses, he just focused on the broken pieces of glass. Those broken pieces representing his past....his scattered past....his shattered life and he had to wonder if those memories were his or another's. He snapped out of his thoughts and left the bar, leaving the people and the bartender puzzled. He walked out briskly, taking long strides, watching the stars as he walked down the pavement. He stopped suddenly as he saw the brilliant flames surrounded by the homeless. Those brilliant flames burned and scarred his soul a long time ago.  
  
**"RUN!! GET OUT OF HERE!! GET HIM OUT OF HERE!!" The young child stared at the man pleading him to run. His mother gripping his shoulder tightly, trying to save him from the wicked flames.  
  
"JUST GET OUT BEFORE THEY GET YOU!!" His father screamed at him to get out of the heat...out of the flames. The flames licked at his flesh, engulfing his father with one swallow. The last thing he saw was his father's emerald eyes filled with pain, the burning sensation leaving a mark in his soul...in his heart.**  
  
He shut his eyes from the brilliance of the light, that same ache of lonlieness returned, opening the scar once more. He turned away and continued to stroll down the streets of Japan, passing the familiar flower shop. He hestitated, deciding whether or not he should look through the display window. He shook his head, turned on his heel and left. He was stopped shortly after he heard the icy voice.  
  
"What are you doing here?" He turned around, emerald eyes meeting violet ones. He grinned at the younger redhead, ignoring the death glare he gave him. He was deciding whether or not he should probe the other man's thoughts. *Glad to see you too, Aya* Aya grit his teeth as he felt the German trying to rummage through his mind.  
  
"Stay away from my head, Schuldig" He spat. The other man only widened his grin. *Thought you wanted to know why I'm here.* There was confusion in the other man's deep violet eyes. The German waited for a reply, when he found none, he continued to speak into Aya's mind. *Thought I'd just walk around town, you know? Couldn't sleep.* Aya thought he heard a faint hint of sadness in Schuldig's voice. Finding the other man silent, the German left his mind and started walking away. Aya jerked his head up as he felt the familiar emptyness in his thoughts. He contemplated whether or not he should call the other man back.  
  
"Wait!" Schuldig stopped in mid step when he heard Aya's voice. He turned around to meet the other man's violet eyes again. The two men stood apart in silence, wondering what to say. Schuldig sighed and sat on a nearby bench, drawing a cigerrete to his lips. Aya soon joined him on the bench but kept at least a foot distance between himself and the German. Aya watched him warily from the corner of his eye, expecting a suprise attack. Schuldig, feeling Aya watching his every move, only smiled.  
  
"I'm not going to attack, Ran. We're not on a mission so we're not enemies. Well, for now we aren't."  
  
"We may not be on a mission now but that doesn't mean you're not a Schwarz, Schuldig.. And don't call me Ran." Schuldig only shrugged, flicking his cigeratte to the side. There was another long pause, silence hanging in the air. Leaning back on the bench with his hands under his head, Schuldig closed his eyes. Aya sat there, quiet, wondering if the other man fell asleep. Aya studied the German, he seemed so relaxed in his sleep. His blazing copper hair, usually messy when they fought, seemed softer in the twilight. And that annoying grin dissappeared when he was fast asleep, Aya had to admit, Schuldig didn't seem so guilty when he was asleep, he almost looked innocent.  
  
**"Outcast!! Stay away from my children!!"  
  
"FREAK!! You don't belong here!" The young twelve year old stared at them, shocked and confused.  
  
"B-but I didn't do anything."  
  
"DEVIL!" One of the women shrieked and the others threw rocks at him. He was hurt, torn, abused, and he was wild with rage. Blind with anger, he used his mind controlling abilities to shut down one of the many children who threw things at him. The boy fell silently to the ground, he was out cold, dead. The mother of the dead child screamed and the others started to run in frenzy madness while the others brought out weapons. In minutes, the crowd was nothing but fallen bodies on the road except one boy who stared into nothingness. It was the first time he used his abilities to hurt somebody and the surge of power was too much for him. He looked around him, only seeing a sea of dead bodies gathered around each other. He remembered somebody pulling him out of the streets and into a home. The home where scientists studied his special abilities. He remembered how he lost his innocence then, how he lost everything he had in him when he joined the Schwarz. Schwarz, the cold-blooded assasins. The same kind of cold blooded assasins who burned his home, burned his father, murdered his mother, and tore him away of all innocence. And the worst part of it all was that he became the thing he hated. The thing he left behind.**  
  
Schuldig opened one eye and found Aya lost in his own thoughts.  
  
"Thinking about your past?" Startled by the sudden sound of his voice, Aya turned his head to the German. Schuldig only grinned and stretched his arms in a careless gesture, Aya only glared.  
  
"Why do you care?"  
  
"I don't." The German shrugged and Aya watched him carefully, feeling the anger rising again. 'I stopped caring when I joined Schwarz.'  
  
"Don't you feel guilty for what you've done?"  
  
"Nope." Schuldig avoided Aya's eyes and the surge of anger bubbling in his voice. He noticed the sun was rising and decided to get back to the Schwarz headquarters.  
  
"Well, nice talking to you, Abyssinian." Schuldig stood up and winked at Aya, that empty grin tracing over his lips once again.  
  
"You said you never lied before Schuldig, but you just did." Schuldig stopped and looked over his shoulder, the grin had dissappeared.  
  
"I never lie." Schuldig stated it in an unfamiliar voice, a voice that seemed to have lost its meaning, a voice that sounded more confused than cool and composed. Aya shook his head and a distant smile came across his usually cool mask.  
  
"If you don't feel guilty, then why did you name yourself Schuldig? You had to feel guilty when you gave them that name, you just don't want to admit it." Schuldig turned away, his cool exterior breaking down in front of his own enemy.  
  
"There's things you should rather leave behind than keep, Aya. I left my guilty conscience somewhere along the way." 'I left it when I killed the boy in Germany.'  
  
"To tell you the truth, Aya, I left my family, my guilt, my innocence, my happiness, and my past a long time ago. And if it makes you feel any better, I'm sorry for what I've done to your sister. This, I promise you, is the truth. I never lie." With that, Schuldig turned sharply on his heels and left. Aya watched Schuldig's dissappering form in the morning light.  
  
*It's what you make of your life, not what your life makes of you. I couldn't handle the pain, the sorrow, the lies and the guilt, so I forgot about them. Those are the things I left behind. Those are my sacrifices. Don't forget that, Aya.*  
  
He remembered being alone in a small, dark room. He remembered being treated as if he was nothing but an animal, an experiment. He remembered Brad's outstretched hand, offering a new life. He remembered his first victim, the one he shot in the head when his victim asked for mercy. He remembered the young boy who used to live with two loving parents. He remembered his father burning in the flames, his mother shot to death. He remembered being rejected into society. He remembers the things he left behind.  
  
A/N: So sorry for my mispelling and grammatical errors!! I hope you enjoyed the story, it's my first fanfic! Please don't flame me, I never watched Weib Kreuz, so I really don't know much about the characters. T.T *That's why they seem so OOC.* Hehehe......guess I'll be going now. Reviews would be nice. :) 


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